


The Once and Future Consort.

by CupCakezys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e02 The Once and Future Queen, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), episode rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupCakezys/pseuds/CupCakezys
Summary: Merlin wondered how Arthur had managed to convince him to agree to this. He'd agreed the knight's obviously sometimes let him win in tournaments for fear of injuring the Prince of Camelot, but to lie to everyone, help Arthur participate in the jousting tournament in secret, and give up his bed for the prat?Merlin wondered when he stopped being able to say no to his prince.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 728





	The Once and Future Consort.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to stay with you.” Arthur groaned, looking around Merlin’s tiny room. “Was there nowhere else I could stay?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and shoved his semi-clean tunics back into his closet. “We need to keep you out of sight, and Gaius may not know you’re here but he does know your magical beast is about as real as-“

“Your serving skills?” Arthur asked, amused, as he lifts an old bowl Merlin had been meaning to clean for weeks now. The inside had turned a slight red from the soup that had been in it. “Truly, Merlin, this is disgusting. You can’t expect me to stay here.”

Merlin, having spotted his magic book peeking out from under his bed, dived for it, feigning grabbing for his fallen pillows. “You really can't go without your big bed and your soft pillows? Maybe I could ask Gwen if she’d let you stay with her, or we could hide you in Morgana’s chambers if you _really_ can’t live without your precious royal bed.”

Arthur’s face pinched and he turned away from Merlin, allowing him to grab the book and throw it into the bottom of his closet. He breathed a silent sigh of relief and went back to fixing his bed.

“This will be fine.” Arthur finally said, tense like Merlin was telling him he needed to walk through hot coals.

He rolled his eyes. “Prat.”

Arthur pretended not to hear him. “How are the preparations coming along? Have we found someone to play our knight in the tournament?”

We, he said, like it wasn’t Merlin doing all the work. “Absolutely. He's a farmer from one of the outlying villages, and no one will recognise him.”

Arthur didn’t look convinced. “But does he look the part?”

Merlin shrugged. “Well...”

* * *

“Merlin.” Arthur hissed the moment he opened his bedroom door, making him drop the large pile of washing in his arms, and gods, _why did he have to do that._

“What?” He snapped, irritated. He’d only half cleaned the leech tank and still had to do the laundry and scrub the floor. His knees hurt just thinking about it.

“Do you think anyone suspects us?”

Merlin sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Arthur had taken it the first night, and though Merlin could have complained and gotten it back, he didn’t. Arthur had offered to sleep on the floor the instant he’d seen Merlin lay down, of course, because he may be a prat, but he was a noble knight too. Merlin had refused and gotten a pillow to the face, Arthur’s laughter following him into sleep.

Now he shifted so he was facing Arthur, just barely able to make him out in the darkness. “I doubt it. From what Gwen’s told me, the ladies of the court are quite impressed with Sir William. They think he's very handsome.”

Arthur snorted. “Typical. He wouldn't know a real knight if he whacked him round the head with his lance.”

Merlin shook his head, though he couldn’t stop the grin crawling onto his face. “Is all this really worth it?”

Arthur sighed. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand, but when I'm competing as William, my title doesn't matter, nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament- _if_ I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it and not because I am Prince Arthur.”

“I think I understand.” Merlin said, though he wished he didn’t. If Arthur’s status as the future king of Camelot kept him from harm then Merlin wasn’t complaining. He hesitated a moment, but Arthur didn’t say anything more, so he stood. “I need to finish these chores for Gaius.”

Arthur sighed, tired and quiet. Merlin gathered his washing and slipped from the room, careful not to wake him.

* * *

Merlin startled awake to Gaius standing over him, eyebrow raised, and his head pounding from a night spent sprawled uncomfortably on the floor. A quick glance outside showed the late morning sun shining brightly in the sky. Arthur would have left by now, nervous as he had been this whole tournament. Merlin wasn’t sure why he hadn’t woken him, but he knew he’d be in for it when he went down to the tournament grounds today.

“Merlin, on your feet.” Gaius said sternly. “Arthur may be away, but I'm not. And why is my leech tank still dirty? Where do you get the idea you can sit around all day doing nothing?”

“Wha-?” Merlin pushed himself up, irritation and anger born from all the stress and exhaustion of the past few days rising up before he could stop it. “Do you think I sit around doing nothing?! I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot! I'm too busy running around after Arthur! Do this, Merlin! Do that, Merlin! And when I'm not running around after Arthur, I'm doing chores for you! And if I'm not doing that, I'm fulfilling my destiny! Do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life?”

Gaius opened his mouth, but Merlin didn’t give him the chance to say anything. He was too angry, and it was like a dam had been broken within him. He didn’t think he could stop himself now, even if he wanted to.

“I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, erm- bandits! I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am, because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed! Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions, I don't know which way to turn!”

He was panting by the end of his rant, and all of a sudden he felt exhausted. Gaius was looking at him like he’d never seen him before, but Merlin didn’t feel like talking anymore, let alone apologising, so he spun on his feet and all but ran for his room. He slammed the door behind him and all but collapsed against it.

He heard a door close, knew Gaius had left, and sighed.

Then promptly screamed when he opened his eyes and saw Arthur sitting in his bed, hair sleep tousled and eyes wide.

He clapped his hands over his mouth. “How much did you hear?”

Arthur blinked. “Why would my father have you executed?”

“Arthur-!” Merlin stepped forward, only to jerk back when Arthur flinched, reaching for a sword he didn’t have.

“Are you a spy?” Arthur hissed, more awake now, and Merlin panicked.

“No! I was just- I was born differently. In a way that the king wouldn’t approve of.” He wanted to run, rather than have this conversation.

But Arthur was staring at him in confusion, and Merlin knew if he ran now he might never get the chance to explain himself. He wasn’t sure if it would even matter, if he could lie his way out of this one, but he had to try.

Arthur frowned. “You were born- what, because of magic? Some sort of spell?”

“No.” Merlin shivered, his voice dropping to a whisper. He didn’t even think, too caught up in his earlier anger and the panic now making his heart pound. “Arthur. I was born _with_ magic.”

He immediately clamped his hands back over his mouth. Damnit. Curse his stupid mouth for speaking before he could think. Fear crawled up his back as he watched the prince closely.

Arthur blinked twice before he slowly shook his head. “No. You don’t- I would know if you had _magic_!”

“I’ve had to hide it all my life, for fear of what would happen if the wrong person found out.” Merlin swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “If your father found out. How was I supposed to tell you?”

They stared at each other for a long time, until Arthur grabbed his cloak and pulled it around himself. Merlin pressed himself into the door as Arthur approached him, and hated that Arthur refused to even look at him.

“Move.” Arthur growled.

Merlin shivered. “What are you going to do?”

Arthur’s jaw twitched. “I have a tournament to win.”

“O-oh.” He slid out of the way, shoulders hunched, as Arthur slipped past him.

Arthur paused. “Your services are no longer required.”

And then he was gone, and Merlin collapsed onto the ground, heart shrivelling in his chest.

* * *

Merlin wondered the marketplace in a daze. He had no idea where Gaius was. He suspected he was at the tournament – watching in case anyone got hurt, ready to tend the stupid, bull-headed knights that liked to stab at each other with sharp objects.

Merlin didn’t know for sure. He couldn’t know for sure, because he refused to go anywhere near the tourney grounds. The risk of running into Arthur wasn’t too high, considering the prince was pretending to be away on a mission, but still Merlin didn’t want to risk it. He was afraid of what he might do – whether he’d beg Arthur to forgive him or scream at him for being such a prat when it was Merlin that had to live his life in fear.

No, it was best to stay far away, and that was why he was wondering the marketplace, a bag full of his belongings over his shoulder, as he contemplated leaving.

He wasn’t sure he actually could. Camelot had become his home this past year, and he was reluctant to leave it, whether Arthur hated him or not. He didn’t want to leave Gaius, or Gwen, or Morgana, and who knew how long Kilgharrah might have to wait alone in the dark before someone made their way down to his cave and spoke to him again. The old dragon might have been selfish and just a little manipulative, but Merlin couldn’t imagine spending twenty years alone in the dark, and the idea of leaving anyone to that fate made his gut twist uncomfortably.

On the other hand, if Arthur truly did hate him now, could he trust him to keep his secret? Merlin didn’t know, and it was both terrifying and infuriating. If Arthur couldn’t see all that Merlin had done for him, maybe he wasn’t the once and future king Kilgharrah had foretold he would be.

Maybe he wasn’t everything Merlin had believed him to be.

“Merlin?” A voice called, startling him out of his thoughts.

He jerked around. “Gwen?”

She hurried over to him, a basket in her arms, and Merlin idly wondered what was in it. “What are you doing here? I thought you were helping Sir William.”

Merlin felt his smile turn forced. “He didn’t need me today.”

“Does that mean you missed his bout against Sir Leon?’

Merlin didn’t want to be curious, but he was. “Why? What happened?”

Gwen bit her lip. “Well, he looked really distracted. Sir Leon almost unseated him twice before Sir William managed to catch him in the side and knock him off. He made it into the final.”

Merlin released a quiet breath. “That’s good.”

“I also happened to pass by his tent after the match.” Gwen said, in that knowing way of hers, and Merlin immediately winced.

“Gwen-“

She held up a hand. “It’s alright. He explained. I mean, I understand, to an extent, _why_ but- I mean obviously I couldn’t ever really understand why, I’m not a knight but- you know what I mean.”

Merlin smiled, a real one this time, even if it was only small. Trust Gwen to cheer him up by just being herself.

“He also asked me the best way to apologise to someone he cared for.” She glanced at him meaningly, then chuckled to herself. “Well, he asked in his own way, without asking.”

Merlin swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. “What did you say?”

“I told him that actions speak louder than words, and if he really wanted to apologise he should do something to prove it.” Merlin would be surprised that Gwen had spoken up to the Prince of Camelot, but he knew how determined she could be when allowed the courage to speak freely. Arthur wasn’t someone she needed to hold her tongue around. “So he came up with a plan.”

Merlin leaned close, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating faster by the second. “And what is this grand plan of his?”

Gwen grinned. “He’s going to cook you dinner.”

Merlin jolted. _That_ he was not expecting. “He’s... cooking? _Arthur_?”

Gwen nodded, almost laughing now, and Merlin had to wonder if this was all some elaborate prank.

Then he imagined _Arthur_ , Prince of Camelot, cooking _him_ dinner, and the fear for Gaius’s tower had him sprinting for the castle.

* * *

Merlin only slowed when he reached the bottom of Gaius’s tower. He could hear the faint sounds of cursing coming from the top, and although Gaius should be making potions for tomorrows patients, he suspected his mentor wasn’t the one currently condemning all chickens to an eternity in hell.

He pushed open the door slowly, almost afraid of what he would see.

Thankfully, nothing was on fire. Arthur stood in the corner of the room by the fire, a raw chicken in his hands, and as Merlin watched he frantically tried to find a way to dispose of the chicken in the fire. Eventually the prince threw it in the empty cooking pot and turned back to the rest of the room.

Two dinners from the palace kitchens sat on the bench, and Merlin wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed.

Looking at Gaius’s still-intact rooms, he decided he was _very_ relieved.

He swallowed and opened the door. “Gwen told me you were cooking.”

Arthur jumped and glanced up at him, guilt and just a touch of fear on his face before he swallowed it back behind his princely mask. “Merlin.”

He inclined his head to the dinners on the table. “You’re not cooking.”

Arthur glanced at it and grimaced. “Look, I can kill a chicken from a thousand paces, just don't ask me to cook it. That’s what servants are for.” Merlin raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Arthur winced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Merlin sighed and pushed the door closed behind him. “I’m not ashamed to be a servant. I told you before, didn’t I? I’m happy to be your servant until the day I die.”

Arthur made a small, strangled sound. “ _Why_?”

Merlin turned around and shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “Because I believe in the world you will build.”

“Even though you’re a sorcerer?”

Arthur’s voice was tense, hard, but it wasn’t cold like Merlin had feared.

“Yes.” Merlin met Arthur’s eyes, the first time he had since he had admitted his secret, and was surprised to find Arthur unwilling to look away. “I know you will create a land free and full of peace, a world where ordinary people no longer have to fear for their lives and the rulers of Albion don’t fight each other, but join together to create a golden age of prosperity unlike any other.”

He shifted, looked at his feet as his hands clenched behind his back.

“Even if you never learned of my magic.” He whispered. “Even if it was still banned and you only ever believed it was evil, I would still believe in you. I would still protect you, no matter the cost.”

This time, Arthur sounded a little bit awed, and a little bit broken when he spoke. “How can you be so sure?”

Merlin simply smiled at his boots, a sad thing, and shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Arthur moved forward slowly, giving Merlin plenty of time to move away. He didn’t. A hand rested on his shoulder, another on his chin, tilting his head up gently, and Merlin didn’t resist. Arthur’s eyes were a storm this close, all dark and deep and blue.

He swallowed, and saw Arthur do the same.

“I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at – cooking being one of them, and knowing what to say to someone I care about.” He sucked in a breath. “And also apologising when I know I’ve done wrong.”

Merlin’s breath stuttered. “Arthur-“

“Let me finish.”

Merlin hesitated. He’d never heard Arthur sound like that. Like he was begging. He nodded, as much as the fingers on his jaw would allow.

“I’ve had some time to think. About what I heard, and what you said.”

Merlin was tempted to ask about the bout with Sir Leon, but he’d promised to let Arthur finish, and he was almost afraid to interrupt him now, in case this was all a dream.

I’m sorry.” Arthur whispered, and Merlin had to wonder if that was the first time Arthur’s lips had ever formed the words. “I’m sorry you grew up with such fear. I’m sorry you still live with it, every day. I’m sorry it was my farther that forced you to live a life of hiding. And most of all I’m sorry I made you feel too unsafe to tell me.”

Merlin, embarrassingly, felt tears welling up in his eyes. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I know it hurt you.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the apology easily, and then he released a shaky breath. “Your magic-“

His voice seemed to give out on the word, like he couldn’t force the rest of his sentence past it. Merlin understood. It was difficult, terrifying even, speaking of magic in the heart of Camelot without condemning it.

“My magic?” Merlin prompted, because he needed to hear what Arthur was going to say.

Arthur licked his lips nervously and moved away. Merlin’s chin tingled where his fingers used to be.

“I know you’re not evil. I know if it’s yours then the magic isn’t bad.” Arthur forced out, and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. “but...”

“It still makes you uncomfortable.” Merlin said, understanding.

Arthur went to protest, but Merlin knew him too well, and Arthur knew it. His face twisted into a slight grimace instead, and rather than admit it he turned to their cooling dinner.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Merlin smiled hesitantly and joined Arthur at the table. “Does this apology meal include you washing the dishes too?”

“Shut up Merlin.”

Merlin laughed, but after they had finished eating Arthur took his plate, and when they went to sleep that night Arthur slept on the floor, no matter how much Merlin protested.

* * *

They woke the next day and silently got ready, Merlin helping Arthur into his clothes as he always did. It felt unreal, that Arthur knew and still trusted him to do this. That he still saw Merlin as _Merlin_ , despite the lies and his father’s hatred of all things magic influencing him his whole life.

“One more match.” Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. “Then the tournament will be over.”

Merlin fixed his cloak around him and stood back. “Then you can go back to being Prince Arthur. To being waited on hand and foot, the giant comfy bed, with the ability to order around innocent servants and knock around your thick-headed knights.”

Arthur frowned in mock offense. “My knights aren’t thick-headed. Some servants are just too much of an idiot to understand the mind of a knight.”

Merlin pressed a hand to his heart dramatically, and then they were both laughing and smiling softly at each other, and Merlin’s heart missed a beat at the look in Arthur’s eyes. He reached up for his neckerchief and gently tugged it free from his neck, ducking his head shyly as he offered it to Arthur.

“For luck.” He said by way of explanation, and hoped that would be enough.

Arthur rolled the fabric between two of his fingers. “Is it... you know?”

Merlin looked up. “Charmed? No, it’s just an ordinary favour.”

Arthur took it, a slight grin on his lips. “An ordinary favour? Do you know what favours are, _Mer_ lin?”

Merlin’s breath caught. “Yes.”

Arthur stared at him, unblinking, before he slowly wound the cloth around his arm. He stared at the red bit of cloth for a moment, breathing shallowly, before turning back to Merlin.

“Thank you.”

Merlin grinned, was going to say _no problem prat, now try not to die out there_ , when suddenly Arthur’s lips were on his and he couldn’t think, let alone speak. He simply allowed himself to be kissed, and when Arthur tried to pull away he tugged him back, throwing his fear and inexperience to the wind and kissing his prince with everything he had.

Finally Arthur managed to pull himself away, and Merlin let him go, no matter how he wished he didn’t have to.

“I must go.” Arthur whispered, and Merlin nodded, because he knew he did, and then he was gone, leaving Merlin alone in his room.

He raised a hand to his lips. They tingled, and Merlin couldn’t wait until this stupid tournament was over so he could kiss Arthur again, preferably in the prat’s rooms, where they could lock the door and not be disturbed for hours.

* * *

When Arthur inevitably won the tournament – with only a little help from Merlin and his magic, considering his knightly opponent had mysteriously been replaced with a deadly assassin – Merlin was the first one to congratulate him. It was also the first time he told Arthur he had saved his life, and exactly how, and they first time Arthur had reacted to the mention of magic without a flicker of hate or fear.

It was also the first time Arthur allowed Merlin to use magic on him, the deep cut in his side fading to a thin scar, near invisible unless you knew what you were looking for. Arthur had been uncomfortable, but he hadn’t told Merlin to stop, and after he was healed he had ordered Sir William of Daira to go collect his trophy.

Merlin had kissed him senseless for that.

* * *

It was later, late at night in Arthur’s chambers, when Arthur addressed what they had both been avoiding thinking about. Merlin had an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, Arthur’s head on his chest, and Arthur’s fingers tracing patterns onto his side.

“What we have between us, my father would never understand. Least of all if he were to discover your magic.”

Merlin shushed him. “I know. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“We’ll have to be careful.” Arthur continued, as if he hadn’t heard him.

Merlin snorted. “I know how to be careful Arthur.”

Arthur sighed. “I know you do.”

Merlin pulled him closer, and golden hair tickled his nose. “Things will be different when you’re king.”

He felt Arthur smile. “They will. I swear it.”

It was dangerous, but Merlin was used to danger. Living in Camelot was dangerous, but it was worth it. Similarly, loving Arthur was dangerous, but Merlin knew it was worth it, had the moment he’d saw what a noble man the prince was inside. So Merlin let himself fall asleep, Arthur curled up in his arms much in the same way he had curled up in his heart, and dreamt of the golden future they would bring.

It was their destiny, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see more from me, come check out my [Tumblr](https://cupcakezys.tumblr.com/)


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